


Proportionate

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Fat Shaming, Gen, Humor, aka Damian is a little shit, brothers being brothers, or an attempt at it, soft!Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Jason over does it at Christmas dinner, and Damian is more than happy to voice his opinion on his appetite and current physical condition.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for [Rockitz](http://rockitz.tumblr.com/)!

Jason rubbed a hand over the swell of his belly, as he slumped down into the couch. The movement felt like too much, and he gave a little grunt, wincing as he felt his jeans pinching at the soft skin at his belly. He shifted, trying to straighten up, and deciding that hurt more, went for slouching awkwardly, sighing at the  _ subtle _ relief it gave.

 

Alfred would give him hell for his posture, but it was  _ his _ fault anyway that Jason swore he’d eaten himself back to a near-death coma state. Maybe if he’d just cook  _ less _ on the holidays, or finally get  _ worse _ at something with age, Jason wouldn’t have this problem. As it was, he hadn’t recovered from Thanksgiving, and these were the  _ new _ jeans, in the next size up, that he’d had to buy because he couldn’t seem to get those last couple pounds off.

 

He figured Christmas Eve dinner would leave more than just a  _ few _ , if he didn’t do something about it.

 

“I never want to move again,” Dick said, dramatically walking into the room and flopping down onto one of the other chairs. He tossed his legs up over the arm, and Jason folded his arms, scowling slightly because  _ Dick _ never gained a damn pound when he ate just as much as Jason. “I’m going to need someone to roll me back to Blüdhaven.”

 

“Don’t look at me,” Jason said, closing his eyes. “I’m just going to take a little nap. Wake me when Alf’s got that after dinner coffee done.”

 

Jason could already smell it brewing. And  _ that _ meant dessert wasn’t far away. His stomach almost cramped over the idea- and yet, he knew he wasn’t going to say no.

 

“-Tt- a nap is the opposite of what you need, Todd.” Jason cracked one eye open, saw Damian standing a few feet from the couch, arms folded with that typical  _ pout _ on his mouth he pretended was a scowl. Jason ignored him, shutting his eyes again and figuring he’d get bored, in a minute or two. Maybe he’d go play fetch with his  _ dog _ \- was the only friend the brat had, anyway.

 

Jason snorted a little laugh over that, heard  _ little _ socked feet padding across the room, and then suddenly there was a finger, jabbing into his belly. He snapped his eyes open.

 

“What’s so funny?” Damian was leaning in too close, and Jason had to unfold his arms, push his hand away from his belly. “Or are you just trying to be  _ jolly _ like that strange lie you all so love telling children here? You have the build for Santa, now.”

 

“Damian,” Dick warned, from across the room, not even lifting his head yet.

 

“Sayin’ something, kid?” Jason asked, and Damian was poking at his belly again- full on grinning because it was  _ definitely _ not hard, like if he were to poke at Dick’s. Jason’s was soft, moved slightly.

 

“You’re  _ fat _ , Todd.”

 

“Damian!” Dick was sitting up now, pointedly glaring at the youngest.

 

“What? It is true. At this rate, Todd is simply going to  _ sit _ on criminals and call it a night.” Damian stood back, threw his arms out. “How terrifying! The big bad  _ Red Hood _ and his gelatinous ass!”

 

Jason snorted. Ridiculous, but okay, maybe a  _ little _ funny, even if it was pointed at him. “I’ll be sitting on you first, short stuff,” he pointed out, as he sat up straight, ignored the way his jeans were  _ definitely _ going to leave a little red indent all along his stomach. “And I’ll have you know, my ass is  _ wonderful _ .” Damian clicked his tongue, and Jason reached out, flicked him right on the forehead, made him wince. “At least my head is proportionate to my body.”

 

“ _ What _ ?” Damian’s eyes went a little large, and Jason offered up an easy grin.

 

“You look like some cheap toy from McDonalds kid. No worries though, you’ll grow into it. Probably.”

 

Dick started laughing, across the room, and Damian reached up, ran his hands back over his hair, feeling the shape of his head. He looked worried, just along the edges, and it made Jason  _ gleeful _ , so much so his cheeks hurt from smiling. Damian hummed, before he turned away, looking right at Dick. “Grayson, tell Todd he is wrong. My head is perfectly proportionate to my body.”

 

But Dick was biting his lip, giggling over it. “Uh, yeah little D. Sure thing.” He glanced at Jason, as Damian groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Dick gave Jason a little thumbs up, as Damian turned again, with a fresh glare for Jason.

 

“You are  _ wrong _ . My head is perfectly normal! You’re just fat and angry!” He was sounding more and more like a real ten-year-old, and it had Jason  _ living _ for the first time since before the pit, he swore. “You won’t even be able to keep up with us on patrol now. You’ll walk for a  _ block _ and need a break and a snack! No one will be scared of you! Why, I bet Croc would think you taste like  _ marshmallows _ .” Damian’s face was red now, speaking so loudly he was borderline yelling, his voice going up an octave as he got more excited. “We’ll simply  _ roll _ you at our enemies, that’s all you’ll be good for!” He threw his arms out, gesturing wildly. “And you’ll be alone for the rest of your life!”

 

Jason stared at Damian, watched the fact that he was breathing heavily now, eyes huge- and then he started laughing. He laughed so hard his belly hurt- more- and he tossed his head back, howling up towards the ceiling. As he did, Dick joined in, chuckling into his fist and trying to keep himself under control.

 

Damian’s excited look dropped, dissolving to shock, to annoyance. “What- what is so funny?”

 

“You, getting all worked up. Like a little Chihuahua.” Jason shook his head, leaning forward, getting his elbows on his knees. Once again, his jeans protested that movement. “And I’ll have you know, the single life is the good life.”

 

Damian scowled, folding his arms tightly, quite obviously upset that every pathetic jab he could think of hadn’t  _ bothered _ Jason. Truth be told, he’d thought them all himself too many times over. He’d just come to accept them.

 

The kid looked ready to say something else, but quickly clamped his mouth shut when, “What’s going on in here?” came from the doorway. Jason turned, craned his neck, and there was Bruce, standing in the doorway with a mug of coffee, in this  _ hideous _ Christmas sweater. Looking large and annoyed as ever, but  _ festive _ .

 

It took all Jason had to keep from laughing again.

 

“Your kid is being a little shit is all,” Jason said, pushing himself up from the couch and stretching his arms up, over his head. He knew Damian was watching, as his tshirt lifted up, showed off the soft skin at his belly, the trail of hair from his navel down into his jeans. “Nothing new.”

 

“Damian,” Bruce said, turning his stare to his son.

 

“I did nothing father!”

 

Bruce’s stare blatantly said he didn’t believe that, but he said no more as Dick got up as well, walking over and getting his hand in Damian’s hair, messing it up so hard Damian’s head actually jerked around.

 

“Alfred wanted me to let you boys know dessert and coffee are ready.” Bruce took a sip of his own, looking like he needed something stronger in that coffee.

 

“Awesome, I could go for about a dozen cookies,” Jason said, and it wasn’t really a lie. He heard Damian choke.

 

“Where will you  _ put _ it? Do you have a second stomach? Would that explain the size of yours?” Bruce glared over his mug at his son, looking completely done, as Dick began chiding Damian on being  _ polite _ and  _ body positive _ . Jason just kept his smile- because one of  _ those _ lectures from Dick was all the revenge he needed for the kid. It’d take the rest of the night, easily.

 

“So, dessert,” he said, as Bruce turned, Cassandra popping up at the doorway, holding a frosted cookie very happily. She had the same ugly sweater as Bruce, and Jason had no doubts in his mind that was the  _ only _ reason Bruce was wearing it. Jason followed Bruce out of the room, dropping his arm around Cassandra and giving her a one armed hug. She silently leaned into him, looking content as ever with Jason’s warmth and softness.

 

He almost wanted to point out to Damian that maybe people  _ preferred _ him like this.

 

“Grayson,  _ stop _ , I want to get a cookie,” he heard Damian saying. He glanced back, before the room was out of view, and saw Dick had sat Damian down, was standing in front of him with one hand on his hip, in full big brother mode. “If you do not release me Todd will eat  _ all _ the frosted star cookies. Those are my favorite!”

 

Jason chuckled. He knew  _ exactly _ which cookie he was going for first.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Good Ever Came to Jason Todd?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794708) by [TimmyJaybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird)




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